


Reconciliation

by Yatorihell



Series: In The Darkness [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, ノラガミ | Noragami
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-10-24 16:40:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10745673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yatorihell/pseuds/Yatorihell
Summary: Is Yato teaching a them lesson, or is he being taught one?Thank you to Gio (the_musical_alchemist) for beta-ing me!Dedicated to Ina, happy birthday!!!! <3<3<3





	Reconciliation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Leopah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leopah/gifts).



Hiyori’s anger still hadn’t swayed by Friday afternoon - three days since her incident with the bully and Yato. Surprisingly, the former had not harassed her at all when they crossed paths in the corridor or Great Hall. Yato, however, was even more persistent than he was at Halloween: shadowing her classes, using Yukine as bait, all of which had failed as she would simply vanish into the nearest group of students before he could open his mouth.

Herbology was the final class of the day, and the one that had proven the most difficult. Madame Kofuku, a very bubbly lady with bubblegum pink hair, was enthusiastic about potions. _Very_ enthusiastic. In the first class, she had managed to turn a simple ointment into a raging torrent of sludge which flooded three inches of the classrooms floor.

“Just talk to him,” Yama wheedled. Following Madame Kofuku’s lead, she threw a random collection of herbs into her cauldron before leaning back against the desk.

Hiyori stared intently at the wolfbane she was preparing, feigning concentration.

“Let him explain himself,” Aimi chimed in, eyeing Yama’s cauldron which had worryingly started to make a strange sound. “You can’t avoid him forever.”

Hiyori sighed, setting down her knife. Yukine had relayed a message from Yato in their charms class that morning, explaining how he only faked it to get out of classes. Quite a lame excuse, if you asked her. There was no reason for her to carry his bag if he never intended on going to class in the first place.

Though, her situation with the Slytherin bully had seemed to be resolved thanks to him…

“Fine,” she said reluctantly, “I’ll let him talk to me.”

Yama’s eyes shined whilst Aimi gave her a small, supportive smile.

The final bell of the day rang throughout the class, followed by the scuffling of feet and banging of cauldrons as they were emptied and washed. Although the sun was shining when they had entered the class, it had now dimmed to a muted orange, fading fast as the winter days grew shorter and shorter. Saying goodbye and splitting in different directions, Hiyori and her friends returned to their dorm rooms.

However, Hiyori didn’t notice a shadow watching her from the arches.

 

~

 

“Are you sure everything is ok now?” Bishamon peered down at Hiyori as they walked through the castle to the Great Hall. Dim torchlight shone off her blonde hair giving it a somewhat sun-like glow despite the darkness.

Hiyori nodded, a slightly forced smile on her face as she beamed up at her. “Yes, they haven’t bothered me this week. Must’ve got bored of me.”

Bishamon chewed her lip, clearly still worried for her. “Well, if anything happens let me know. I’ll hit them harder than a bludger.”

Hiyori laughed at her overprotectiveness. It was as if she were her older sister when she showed this side of her, one that was seldom seen by anyone else.

The conversation evaporated when they walked into the Great Hall to check out the new decorations. Early November meant one thing for decor: snow. The once stormy sky that hung over the tables was now replaced by a winters night, flurries of snow blurring the stars before disappearing into nothing. The candles still hovered in the air, giving light along with the flaming torches that surrounded the room, only this time they were frosted with snowflake patterns and small icicles which refused to melt away. The Hogwarts ghosts floated around the room in their prim and proper fashion, translucent as the snow crystals that starred the high arc windows.

Hiyori wandered over to the Gryffindor table, finding a seat at the end closest to the door while Bishamon sat nearby, deep in discussion with some other second years.

“Good evening, Hiyori.”

Hiyori jumped at the sudden voice that came from beside her, twirling around on the bench to see Yato straddling the seat next to her, a wry grin on his face. Hiyori scowled a little at his posture.

“Can I help you?” she said shortly. She’d said she would let him talk to her, but that didn’t mean she had to be polite. Yato rested his elbow on the table, chin in his hand.

“You’re not still mad, are you?” he said in a childlike whine as he fought for sympathy. “I said sorry but you ran away. And you’re avoiding me. I thought you promised to stop that?”

Hiyori huffed, turning her attention away.

“Look, I’ll make it up to you.” A series of shuffles from his direction caught Hiyori’s attention. Slyly, she looked out of the corner of her eye. Yato held his wand, directing it into the empty space in front of her.

“Flagrate draco.”

Fiery sparks erupted out of the tip of the wand with a popping sound, making Hiyori jerk away in surprise. Her eyes widened at the sparks fizzed like coal embers in the air before drifting into a moving creature. A dragon. It flapped its wings, mouth opening in a silent roar before melting away. Hiyori glanced at Yato whose chin was still resting in his hand, now with a stupid grin on his face clearly thinking he had impressed her.

Well, maybe he had, just a little. But she wasn’t going to tell him that.  

“How does that make it up?” Hiyori asked, the iciness in her voice thawing a little as his smile wavered.

“Well...” He faltered, searching for a solid explanation. “It’s… pretty?”

Hiyori exhaled at his weak reasoning, giving no response as to whether he was off the hook or not. Her eyes drifted behind him as a familiar face walked into the room.

“Yukine!” Hiyori called, waving at the Hufflepuff to come over to save her from the awkwardness that had begun to settle over them. His stance was almost reluctant as he walked over to them, uninterested and glancing back towards his own house table before settling his gazeon the unlikely pair in front of him.

“Is he still following you?” Yukine asked bluntly, hands shoved in his pockets and nodding at the Slytherin who tried to look somewhat wounded at the suggestion.

“We’re friends,” he proclaimed, earning a confused glance from Hiyori and a snort of contempt from Yukine.  Their eyes met at the same time, Hiyori’s pleading look only to be met with one as helpless as hers.

Yato ignored this, instead striking up what he could call a conversation. “So, puff, no more late night adventures? I haven’t seen you sneaking around at night lately.”

Yukine gave Yato a look dark enough to match the enchanted ceiling above them, sauntering away without a word despite Hiyori’s farewell call. Yato smirked, watching him walk all the way to the far end of the Hufflepuff table. He sat down, the top of his blonde head just visible next to the same Hufflepuff boy he had seen him with at the start of the year.

“What’s that about?” Hiyori asked curiously.

“Nothing, he’s just techy.” Yato shrugged, swinging his legs around and leaning back against the table.

“Be nicer to him.”

“What did I do?!” Yato protested, hands raised innocently. Hiyori opened her mouth to list the reasons exactly what he had done in her presence when a deadly voice cut into their conversation.

“What the hell is _he_ doing here?!” Bishamon spat. She towered over Hiyori like a lioness protecting her cub, glaring daggers at the Slytherin who seemed to have made himself at home on her table. He gave her a lazy grin, obviously enjoying the murderous glare she gave him.

“Ah, the Great Bishamon. Good Quidditch match, wasn’t it?” he said idly, almost taunting her.

Hiyori tilted her head up nervously, noticing that Bishamon had pursed her lips into a very fine line, as if she were holding back a storm.

Bishamon had been furious when she returned from the game, mud-splattered and cursing every Quidditch founder that existed. She had angrily paced the common room, throwing her padded armour to the ground. Hiyori – who had been sitting on the floor watching this unfold – tried to come up with a way to comfort her.

That was until Bishamon’s hair began to turn a deep scarlet.

Hiyori stared open mouthed as the red streaks bled through her fair hair, enchanted and slightly worried that she was hurt. Tsuguha – another Gryffindor second year who was also on the Quidditch team – leaned down to reassure her, explaining that Bishamon was a metamorphmagus.

“She can change her appearance at will, but when she’s this mad, it happens by itself,” she explained to her, barely audible over Bishamon’s increasingly creative language as she slandered the Slytherin Seeker. “She practiced all summer when she got put on the team and now Slytherin won and we’re at the bottom of the league.”

Hiyori thought it was beautiful how she could change her hair colour at will, but now seeing it change into a familiar shade of blood red made her heart skip a beat. Hiyori’s arm hairs stood on end, realising that this was going to get very ugly, very quickly, if she didn’t get rid of Yato.

Before Bishamon could spit out a reply – or land any punches – Hiyori spoke up.

“I was just thanking Yato for helping me with my problem,” she said loudly, directing Bishamon’s attention to her. “You know, that _very bad problem_ I had with those _bad people_.”

Hiyori looked at her intently, hoping she would get the message and not start a fist fight. Bishamon stared back at her, eyes flicking back to Yato who was looking at Hiyori in surprise. Resigned, she curtly addressed Yato before turning on her heel:

“Go back to your own table, Slytherin.”

Hiyori let out a small breath, watching Bishamon sit down a few meters away to shadow them. At the front of the hall, Professor Tenjin had stood up from the main table to deliver his usual announcements.

“A thank you? How kind of you to say so,” Yato said wryly, pushing himself up to leave. “I’d better clear off before the Ice Queen rips my guts out. See you.”

Yato strode away, towards the far side of the hall to Slytherin’s table, leaving Hiyori no time to retort or justify what she had said. He clearly didn’t care if he did end up in a fight, even if it were in the middle of the hall.

If anything, he was looking for one.

 

~

 

There was always a classroom which never failed to amaze Hiyori. Classroom 3C, third floor, to be precise. An ancient chandelier hung from the ceiling, wrought iron twisted into curves that held small candles above the professor’s desk. Various painting of beasts and landscapes littered the walls and display cabinets, along with skeletons of obscure magical creatures. Most impressively a dragon skeleton hanging right above their heads, its wingspan spanning the entire roof.

This class was only used for one thing: Defence Against the Dark Arts.

The first class had been daunting, just hearing the name made Hiyori dread what was to come. Her fears were quickly dampened when Professor Takemikazuchi – a serious man with long black hair and a snide voice – only talked about gnomes. The sinister aura returned quite quickly over the term with talk of werewolf bites and spark charms, ghosts and jinxes. The idea of being taught how to harm someone was awful, even if it was for protection, but something told Hiyori that it wouldn’t be used just for that.

One spell that most of the class had been keen to learn was the Knockback Jinx, which could be seen performed by various students messing around in the courtyard when the teachers weren’t looking. Fortunately for the first years, today was the day they would learn that spell.

“The Knockback Jinx is a jinx that can be used to physically repel an opponent,” the professor said sharply, glaring at the students who tapped their wands on the desk in anticipation. “It can also knock away an object and blow up fragile objects.”

He produced his own wand from the folds of his robes, preparing to demonstrate. With a swift movement, he drew a tick in the air with a final squiggle and chanted ‘Flipendo’. The stack of books in front of him were swept clean off the desk by a flash of blue light.

The class gasped in excitement and clamoured to find partners as they were told to try it on each other. This meant they would have to go to the courtyard to get the best blow-away action, which made Hiyori feel slightly sick. She wrapped her scarf around her neck, looking around uncertainly as couples filtered out of the classroom. Yama and Aimi were in a different class than her, and practical lessons were normally just making smokescreens and sparks so she didn’t have to worry about getting a buddy. But now she needed one, and she didn’t trust anyone enough to not go too hard on her. Except…

“Pair with me?”

Hiyori turned around to find Yukine standing behind her, a faint blush on his cheeks, which he tried to hide behind his own yellow-black scarf. Hiyori beamed at him. This was the first time he had asked to be her partner.

“Sure.”

There had been early snowfall that night and the cold northern landscape had preserved it well enough for trails of footprints to show the paths people had taken. The water in the fountain at the centre of the courtyard had frozen so a thin layer of ice covered it, cracks fracturing it like a spider web.

Already Hiyori’s classmates were shouting the jinx at each other and aggressively waving their wands when nothing happened. Professor Takemikazuchi stalked around the edge of the group, observing and snapping at students who failed, and smirking when someone did get blasted away.

Hiyori pushed her scarf away from her nose, breath immediately creating small clouds in front of her as she readied her wand. Yukine adjusted his stance a few feet away. At least it wouldn’t hurt too much if she landed in the snow.

“Flipendo!” Hiyori cried, mimicking the wand movement the professor demonstrated. Nothing. She did it again, but the result she expected still did not appear.

Frustrated, she lowered her wand to give Yukine a chance and squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for impact. Although she heard him shout the spell in a somewhat muffled voice, she was still standing. She cracked open an eye to see that Yukine was turning an alarming shade of purple as he furiously shook his wand in her direction. The sight was enough to make her burst out laughing hadn’t it been for their teacher’s sinister presence creeping up behind them.

“Hold your wand properly, boy!” Professor Takemikazuchi’s voice was as dark as the class’ subject itself. “Haven’t you learnt anything from my class? Minus ten points to Hufflepuff.”

He cast a scathing glance at Hiyori before sauntering away, his black figure contrasting in the white landscape. Hiyori looked back at Yukine and bit her lip. He looked just about ready to snap his wand, or stab it into the professor’s neck. If he were tall enough to reach that far.

They continued to exchange spells with no result, despite most of the class mastering it by the time the lesson was finished. Hiyori looked at her classmates dejectedly as the class dispersed. Their robes and hair were dusted with snow powder and cheeks red from frostbite, but still stretched into grins nonetheless.

Hiyori tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, speaking absentmindedly to Yukine who she assumed had walked up behind her, footsteps crunching the frosty grass.

“Don’t worry, we can practice…” She trailed off at the dull thud behind her, shortly followed by a half-snort half-laugh. She spun around, brow furrowed at the noise. A few feet away, Yukine lay sprawled on his back, covered in snow. Above him, Yato held a snowball.

“Come on! You just had a defence class!” Yato shouted, tugging his Slytherin-green scarf down to reveal somewhat of a happy smile. He scooped up another fistful of snow and packed it into a snowball, stalking after Yukine who had begun to scramble away from him. “Defend yourself!”

“Yato, stop!” Hiyori shouted, but her calls for a ceasefire were ignored.

With a swing that could put a Beater to shame, Yato flung the snowball square at Yukine’s face. Miraculously, Yukine had somehow kept hold of his wand and used a shield charm, which the snowball smashed into.

“You’re a bit too young to know a protection spell,” Yato said nonchalantly with a half-grin.

“I learn quickly!” Yukine snapped back bitterly, pushing himself to his feet.

“Yato!” Hiyori said again, irritated.

He looked up at her, same grin plastered all over his face. Before she could deliver her lecture about treating people with respect, Yato interjected in a matter-of-fact voice.

“I see your magic is as bad as your flying. I’m surprised Professor Zucchini didn’t deduct points from Gryffindor too.”

Hiyori’s mouth fell open in shock before it quickly shut again. She clenched her fists, a tirade of insults on the tip of her tongue. Yato seemed to have a knack for avoiding ear-lashings as he added a final remark before she could berate him.

“I could see what you two were doing wrong even from where I was standing.” He looked between the both of them, suddenly with an aura of ‘I-know-what-I’m-doing-and-you-don’t’.

“Oh? What would that be?” Hiyori asked as sweetly as she could, venom dripping from the words.

“You hold your wand wrong, and -” He turned to Yukine, “so do you. And your stance is all wrong.”

He gestured for them to come closer - which they did, somewhat distrustfully - and instructed them to take out their wands. He stood next to Yukine, monitoring his stance as if deep in thought.

“Do the spell,” he said, taking a step back. The moment Yukine moved his hand, Yato jumped in, smacking the underside of his arm so he aimed higher.

“Posture!” he exclaimed. “Stop moving your hand so much!”

Yukine glared at him but said nothing. Chanting the spell again, he moved his hand with a more

purposeful flick. Blue light spat out of the tip of his wand, narrowly missing the fountain in the middle of the courtyard before dissipating. Yato slapped him on the back, leaving Yukine grinning despite himself.

Yato turned his attention to Hiyori.

“Go on.”

Hiyori warily watched Yato as she took out her wand and raised it, fearing the same chastising treatment. She waved her wand carefully, trying to mimic Yukine’s method, and chanted the spell.

Nothing.

Yato stepped beside her, gently pushing her wrist up to change her wands aim. The chill that had stayed with Hiyori throughout the morning thawed a little at Yato’s close proximity.

“You need to aim higher,” he said in a slightly lower voice, “and move your hand quicker.”

Hiyori nodded silently, focusing her power once again. Yato stood back, watching her with his head tilted. Chant. Wave.

Nothing.

Hiyori sighed, stealing a glance at Yato and Yukine who had been watching her fails. Yukine gave her a small shrug, not sure why she couldn’t do it. On the other hand, Yato was scheming something.

“Maybe a real target would help,” he said thoughtfully. He spun on his heel, a devious smile on his face as he looked at the small Hufflepuff in front of him. “Yukine, be a target.”

“Not bloody likely.”

Yato grumbled at Yukine’s stubbornness, not noticing Hiyori’s mouth opening to protest the idea of a human target.

“Fine, I’ll be a target,” Yato muttered stomping through the snow a few metres in front of Hiyori. “Hit me.”

Hiyori stared at him. He was infuriating and cocky and downright arrogant, but she didn’t want to hurt him.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” she said, looking away, embarrassed at herself. Yato scoffed.

“You won’t hurt me. There’s snow to land on.” He spread his arms out, an open invitation to attack him. “I doubt you can hit me anyway.”

Hiyori snapped her head back at this insult. His cocky smile jibbed her to bring her wand back up and focus as hard as she could. _Infuriating, cocky, downright arrogant._

With a quick action, she carved the symbol in the air with a forceful thrust and shouted the spell. With a blast of air a cobalt blue light shot out of her wand and slammed into Yato’s chest, knocking him off balance. Hiyori’s eyes widened at her power, astonished that she had cast something so powerful. Somehow, Yato managed to keep his footing despite the snowdrift at his feet, but his robes and hair were white from snow powder, giving him the appearance of a ghost. He looked like he’d seen one when he managed to clear his vision, eyes rounded and alight like blue fireballs.

_Oh dear…_

Yukine whooped and applauded, calling congratulations to Hiyori for managing to make an improvement to Yato’s face. Hiyori looked over to him, biting back a smile.

Perhaps Yato had his uses after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow look at that, 2 chapters in the space of 2 weeks, I’m spoiling y’all
> 
> I'm really happy about all the feedback I've gotten on here and on Tumblr. It's really motivated me to wrote much more so I can update at least once a month, perhaps more over summer.


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